Open Your Eyes: Gifts
by corneroffandom
Summary: December hasn't been a great month, but Ricardo wants to try to make it better for Alberto.


December had been an annoying month. Ricardo is all too aware of this, wishing he could do something to make Alberto feel better. His concussion had been yet another blow after losing his title just to watch it be unified with the WWE title, leaving him with even less of a chance to regain it as Cena and Orton seem determined to lock up the opportunities for the title for the foreseeable future. Ricardo sighs and shakes his head, staring at his hands. "I perhaps can't help him get his title back anymore, but..." Ideas coming to him, he grabs his iPad and begins searching for something. "Maybe..."

After a few minutes, his eyes gleam. "There it is," he mutters, tapping the screen with a small smile. "I hope you'll like it, El Patron." Once he pays extra shipping to ensure that it'll arrive in time for Christmas, he sits back and grins, anxious for the holidays to come so he could see the look on Alberto's face when he sees his gift.

Ten days later, he wakes up in his former employer's arms on Christmas morning and he grins, snuggling closer to him. Alberto is doing better now, his headaches finally gone, and it almost as if there hadn't been a problem to begin with. Health-wise, anyway. He'd still been thrown by the loss of his title, and its ultimate unification. He would be cleared for competition in the next day or two and Ricardo hopes desperately that he'll be able to move past all of this and keep his head in the game enough to avoid any further injuries. Frowning at this thought, he leans up and kisses Del Rio's jaw, smirking when the Mexican aristocrat mumbles in Spanish, his arm tightening around the younger man's midsection. "Alberto," he sing-songs teasingly, shifting up to his mouth, where he hovers patiently.

He gasps when gravity shifts on him, Alberto flipping them so he's hovering over Ricardo, eyes dark in the half-lit room as he stares down at his ring announcer, now the one smirking as Ricardo gapes at him, laughing quietly. "Buenos Dias," he tells him quietly, kissing him.

"Buenos Dias... and Feliz Navidad, El Patron," he murmurs back, stroking his fingers through his hair. When his former employer tenses beneath his hand, he frowns. "Alberto? What's wrong?"

Del Rio grimaces, then shrugs. "Nothing, never mind." He kisses him again, distracting him briefly from the weird look in his eyes, how... guilty he looked for that split second.

Shaking that off, Ricardo pulls away after a few minutes and sits up, chuckling when Alberto holds onto him, not wanting to let him go. "I'll be right back," he promises. "I just need to get something." He lifts the older man's hand and kisses his palm, grinning when he squirms and slips away, allowing him to get out of bed. He runs his fingers through his sleep mussed hair and pads quietly out to the living room, where he stares up at the darkened tree, before smiling and digging through the presents under the tree until he finds his own to Alberto. When he returns, Alberto is leaning back against the headboard, his eyes immediately locking on the present in Ricardo's hands. "El Patron, I know it's early, but I really want to see your reaction to this..."

That strange look is back on Alberto's face again but he says nothing as he gingerly takes the box from Ricardo, sitting up to properly look at it as Ricardo turns the nearest lamp on to its lowest setting, both of them squinting against the light as their eyes adjust. The former ring announcer leans against his shoulder and beams down at the gift, Alberto releasing a faint breath as he tilts his head and kisses him on the temple before slowly pulling apart the wrapping paper. It seems to take forever and a split second all at the same time as he lays the paper aside and begins to work the box over, finally getting it open enough that he can peer at the contents inside. He gasps lowly before reaching into the cardboard and pulling out- his World title, or at least a very, very good replica of it.

Ricardo smiles slowly as he takes in every inch of the belt, giving him time to do so before he tries to explain. "I know it's not _your_ belt exactly, but I thought... maybe this would help, somehow. If not now, then someday, when you want to look at it and remember... the times you held it, and all that happened when you did."

Alberto looks up at him. "I wanted the World title for so long," he mumbles. "I fought and I fought and it took so long to finally get it that when I did, I almost couldn't believe it. Those were the best few months of my career, holding it alongside you, even during all of that mess with Swagger." His eyes rest on Ricardo's ankles and he sighs. "Then Ziggler happened and all I could think about was regaining it... and I almost lost you in the aftermath." He reaches forward and takes Ricardo's hand, squeezing his fingers. "But the longer I held the title, the more certain I was that it would always be mine. Thus when Cena took it away from me, it felt like I lost a piece of myself... which only hurt more when it was unified with the WWE title." Their eyes lock once more and he smiles wanly. "Between that and the concussion... this has been far from how I wanted 2013 to end, career-wise."

Ricardo nods, leaning closer to him. "I know, I'm so sorry. I wish I could do something..." He grows more troubled as Alberto continues to look grim, resting his hand on the title belt plate. "If this- this was a mistake, I... we can sell it, we can do whatever you want with it, just- please, I didn't mean to make you sad-"

Alberto shakes his head sharply. "No, no, Ricardo! Ay, it- it's not this, this is perfect, I'll treasure it, it's just... you went to all of this trouble and... I guess I'm trying to explain... between the mess with the title, and my concussion, I... I forgot about the holidays. I have nothing to give you in return." He sighs in aggravation, standing up to pace around a few moments, Ricardo's wide eyes locked on him. He spins back around and catches Ricardo's face in his hands, staring down at him. "I'll fix this, I promise. Por favor, forgive me-"

But his words die away when Ricardo chuckles, his eyes warm with affection for the other man. "There is nothing to forgive, El Patron," he whispers, leaning up on his knees so that they're eye to eye. "I understand, it's been a horrible month for you. I had all that I could ever want on a Christmas morning already, anyway, when I woke up in your arms. We're fine, so relax, por favor."

Alberto leans his forehead against Ricardo's, breathing in deeply. "Ay, you are too good of a man, I don't deserve you." Before Ricardo can say anything, he kisses him deeply, muffling his retort. By the time he moves away, smirking, the younger man's forgotten what he wanted to respond with anyway. Either way, when Alberto wakes him up the next morning with plane tickets to Europe for a trip to be taken at their earliest convenience, he's not too surprised.


End file.
